Sunday, November 24, 2024

Quest for Air

 

Artwork by Cedar Sanderson from interior of Space Cowboys 6: Fission Chips. It may even go with my story, "Love under a Purple Sky."

There's something about the idea of the cowboy that persists in the imagination of humanity. It's a romantic notion nurtured not only in the fertile imagination but in the heart. I've often said that the western is a uniquely American genre set on the vast canvas of the the plains, prairies, deserts, canyons, and mountains of America. However, the vision of the cowhand, sheriff, drifter, and outlaw transcends the geography and lifestyle that birthed it. The dream can't be restrained and has taken to the stars. Climb aboard and touch your spurs to ride that lofty ambition. Sic itur ad astra.

Space Cowboys 6: Fission Chips is out and topping the list in new sci-fi anthologies.

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I went on a quest this week. I didn't expect to go on a quest. I expected to make a quick trip to a gas station so that I could fill the low tire on the rattlin' battle wagon. The brand new station with its fancy-shmancy air station held out the promise of pressure, but that particular position on the premises remained positively passive. In fact, it had not been activated at all. I had to mess with it for a few minutes to verify that it suffered from a lack of power and that it wasn't merely operator error to blame. Fortunately, it only took credit cards, preventing the prodigal squandering of coins in a vain attempt to prime it to life.

There were legends that lived on from the Chippewa on down of another air station at the older sister station to this one. I consulted the ancient charts in the form of my recollection of having driven by the older place on numerous occasions. After placing the location in my mind, I set the sails and got underway, arriving only minutes later. Before me stood a seasoned air station bearing the scrapes and scratches of many encounters with desperate travelers. I gave it a brief examination and loaded it up with coins. 

Nothing happened.

I couldn't hear any compressor kicking on, nor did any pressure come from the hose. No matter how many buttons I pushed or how I adjusted the mechanism, it refused to perform the service for which I had paid. It ate about two bucks without providing satisfaction.

I had heard of another place whose name was spoken in hushed tones. Those hushed tones had come from the guy who had told me about places that might have air stations. He had mentioned a third place, almost as an afterthought. Having been certain that one of the first two possibilities would answer my dilemma, I hadn't paid much attention to the third. I racked my brain and shot the cue ball into the mass, scattering thoughts in all directions. One found the pocket. I knew the place, even though I had not noticed the air station. 

A reading on the sextant of memory let me adjust my course for the new destination. A slick maneuver and a shortcut brought me precisely to where I would've been had I taken a less imaginative route. I got into traffic, got through the light, turned, and turned again to find the air oasis. My keen eye found it hidden next to a shrubbery and completely devoid of knights with a favorite word. Although it took coins, I didn't have enough left to meet the minimum requirement to make the machine dance. However, being the resourceful type, I persuaded the apparatus to perform with a perfunctory perusal of my payment plastic. 

Thus did I complete the quest for air and did slay the dragon of diminished pressure in my pneu -- or at least forced it to retreat before superior firepower so that it could creep slowly back to clash again another day.




Sunday, November 17, 2024

Affair in Trinidad

 

 

I watched this 1952 black and white movie staring Rita Hayworth and Glenn Ford during my workout sessions on the M5 over a few days or a week. It was directed by Vincent Sherman and features Alexander Scourby as Max Fabian, Howard Wendell as Anderson, Steve Geray as Wittol, Torin Thatcher as Marplon the inspector, Juanita Moore as Dominique, and Valerie Bettis as Veronica.

Rita plays a nightclub dancer/singer who's married to Steve Emory's (Ford) brother. Except she isn't married anymore as brother Emory has turned up with pennies on his eyes. Meanwhile, Ford is on his way from the States in response to a letter his brother wrote him on the say day he allegedly committed suicide.

Ford begins his own investigation. He learns things weren't great between Rita and his brother. at one point, the gentleman in the picture above tells him something like, "When a man is married to a goddess, he must expect other men to worship her." Although he isn't getting the answers he wants, he does get to stay in his brother's house with Rita and Dominique.

That's Dominique, the domestic in the background. She's the wise woman of color, as some might be inclined to describe her. 


 Marplon The Inspector is decidedly short on answers and information for Ford/Emory, but the inspector has more going on that Ford knows.

Ford sticks around in search of his own answers and things heat up between him and Rita.

 

They have a bit of a whirlwind romance over three days or so until Max Fabian shows up to revive all of Ford's suspicions about his brother's wife.

He's loaded with cash and has the hots for the lady. He's also got some Nazi scientists in his bedroom. SPOILER ALERT. Rita and her deceased husband had been trying to get the goods on Fabian. The decedent got caught and made a hasty exit from the spy game in a permanent way thanks to Fabian. Rita ends up telling off Ford to continue her cozy up to Fabian.

While Ford stomps off mad that he's been booted from the fancy party and banished from Rita's heart, she finds an opportunity to search upstairs.

She discovers plans, blueprints, or otherwise incomprehensible drawings, but leaves a fancy chiffon hanky Fabian had just given her at the scientist's desk.

Nevertheless, she strikes gold when she overhears the bad guys and sees the low-budget map with yarn and everything showing how the missile bases in the Caribbean will be able to threaten the entire United States.

A girl may not kiss and tell, but the chiffon hanky tells. It tells Fabian that Rita's a spy. He hastens his plans to depart from the island with his evil henchmen, adding Rita to the flight list, but noting that her ticket will include takeoff but not the landing. 

Dominique talks Ford into going back to rescue Rita, convincing him that she didn't even want to go to Fabian's and really only wanted to be with Ford.

Ford shows up just in time to save the damsel from her distress and get the drop on Fabian and most of his henches--emphasis on most. That guy in the background sneaks up while Fabian keeps Ford in place. The hench gives Ford the old ka-bong on the head, which causes Ford to involuntarily ka-pull the trigger. The ka-bang puts a slug into Fabian, who tells the others to leave without him and to take care of Ford--"take care of" in the sense of without-the possibility-of-future-complications way.

As they're taking Ford out, the cavalry shows up in the form of the inspector and his constables. In the quick exchange of pleasantries in hot lead, Ford takes his captor's gun and goes back inside the mansion.

Not wishing to be rude, he remembers to bring a gift this time, delivering a series of heartfelt presents to Fabian, who receives them at the top of the stairs in the manner in which they were intended. Fabian is overwhelmed at Ford's generosity and pitches over the railing.

After that, it's all over but the cruise back to the States with Ford and Rita closing it out with a last lip lock before the credits roll.

--I thought the show started with a lot of potential. It had a noir feel at first and Ford and Rita came across as intriguing characters--Ford being especially good wearing his frustrated-man-desperate-for-answers persona. Rita's role could've been better written, in my opinion. The film tries to recapture the magic of Gilda,which starred Ford and Hayworth, but never rises to that level of intensity. What started as a noir dish morphed into a predictable conclusion to a matinee serial. I give it 3.5 out of 5 slugs - which is probably the same number Ford gave Fabian.

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My adventure book for boys sails onward with the twins and their only friend in the strange new surroundings all in constant peril. The pieces are falling into place for the race to the finish. A certain exhilaration comes with writing the characters into dangerous circumstances without any knowledge about how they're going to extricate themselves and presenting them with difficulties to solve without having planned the resolution. Letting the circumstances and the characters drive the story becomes an adventure in itself.








Monday, November 11, 2024

Cursed Ruins - beginning


 It's a tragic tale of youthful exuberance and avarice tainted by overconfidence unburdened with the requisite competence. It was the beginning of the quest for the Mysterious Cauldron within the Cursed Ruins. Our two young heroes were to find the cauldron and fill a flask from its contents. A substantial reward awaited them at the completion of the task. They won't be collecting that reward any time soon. Les Freres Corses may have learned something from the adventure. We'll see what happens next time.

Charo Lefevre or Le Favor, or something similar to that--I never got to see the spelling--teamed up with Gratell the budding wizard. Outfitted with swords, a shield, rope, and other supplies, along with 3 magic spells, the adventures passed from the village through the dark forest to the cursed ruins without incident. In order to avoid being swallowed by the treacherous mud and quicksand-like dangers of the pale green marsh, they used their rope to lasso and draw down the ladder/bridge and crossed safely into the mist-obscured ruins. They passed through room 2 into room 3 where a potion and goblin waited for them. Gratell took the potion while Charo engaged the goblin. 

Charo and goblin traded blows against one another's shields and baptized their blades in blood as well. Meanwhile, Gratell, not keen on assisting Charo in his tete-a-tete with the goblin, dashed into room 5 (below room 2) to loot the chest that was visible from the doorway. Instead of opening the treasure, the wizard found himself attacked by another goblin. In his surprise, he lopped off the goblin's head at the first pass. Charo found holes in his goblin's guard, wounding him again while Gratell discovered nothing but old rags and a dead rodent in the chest. 

Crestfallen at the results of his treasure dash, Gratell doubled down by running to room 3, passing through it into room 6 (below room 4). During this time, Charo continued his scrimmage with the first goblin. He wounded the little fiend, causing minor wounds without ever being able to dispatch his antagonist.

Gratell soon realized that he had made a grave error in racing away from his comrade to grasp at treasure and magic items. The guardian of room 6 leaped from a dark corner to engage Gratell while his cohort from room 3 rushed the wizard from behind. Set upon by two formidable opponents, one of whom wielded two deadly blades, Gratell revealed the color of his blood to both antagonists. He did manage to knock down the double-weaponed foe and put him hors de combat, but he couldn't squeeze by the enemy with the the shield who blocked the doorway. He lost more blood before finally dashing past to run back to room 2 toward his comrade in room 3.

Unfortunately for Gratell, although Charo was besting his enemy, when the goblin fled from the warrior to room 5, Charo followed, bent on ascertaining the depth of the goblin's chest with the measure of his blade. The goblin continued to forestall the deathblow, and Gratell's remaining opponent soon caught him and delivered a serious wound to the already weakened wizard that left him unconscious on the sod of the Cursed Ruins.

Charo continued his attacks on the wounded goblin, only to have Gratell's enemy charge into him with shield and sword. Although he defended himself as best he could, avoiding death by turning the fatal cuts with his own shield, cuts and gashes opened where the foe penetrated his defenses.

With the wizard down and unable to fight, cast a spell, or quaff his potion, and Charo suffering from multiple wounds and caught between two foes, Les Freres Corses hit the reset button. We closed it down and reviewed the imprudent choices they had made. Charo's player pointed out that Gratell had left Charo engaged with an enemy to race madly from room to room, bringing more monsters into the fight. Gratell's player suggested with some vehemence that Charo should've come to help Gratell rather than attempting to chase down and execute a goblin who was trying to escape. I agreed with both of them. It was a win-win--they were both right--or a lose-lose; they had both made poor decisions. Never leave your wing man, and always march to the sound of the guns or clash of swords, as the case may be.

Did they learn something? I think so. Will they implement those lessons when they next play? I'm skeptical. A couple years ago while playing Hero Quest, these same choices led to the same results. There's still hope. Some lessons must be learned multiple times before they're remembered and a change of behavior results. I should know. I'm always getting the same lessons.

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Book Reviews: Lord Byron's The Corsair and Frederic Brown's The Fabulous Clipjoint.


 The Corsair is a tale in verse about the pirate Conrad. While it has many memorable lines, the tale is predictable and the lengthy poem goes on too long. Reading it was like one of those conversations with a friend that begins with energy and laughter but ends in weary fatigue because it continued well beyond its best-by date. That concludes what I have to say on that topic.

The Fabulous Clipjoint was recommended as a great example of pulp fiction. A young man's father is murdered after a night out drinking. The wife, young man's step mom, is a heavy drinker and a something of a scold. Her daughter also resembles bad medicine in a pretty bottle. Young man finds his uncle, a carnival worker, and they set out to catch the murderer. I picked the killer early and was not deceived. However, the whole motive and method weren't revealed until the end.

Clipjoint reads like a noir without the personality and conventions that make noir detective stories so fun to read. This pulp novel is like fried chicken and mashed potatoes without anything to go with them. It's tasty and filling but needs another side and a dessert. All the components are impressive: a murder mystery, young man with some competence but lacking experience with a mentor to guide him, a few suspects, some mob connections, the wife with a motive and her potentially poisonous daughter, an attractive woman to strike the young man's fancy, a bank robbery, a police detective with malleable scruples, seedy bars, and a string of clues that direct and misdirect. Nevertheless, there remains a lacuna I cannot place. It earned the four stars I gave it, but I had hoped to be able to give it 5.





 

 

Sunday, November 3, 2024

Omnibus Resurrection

 

Steve A. Douglas

 His Omnibus Bill defeated, Henry Clay left Washington, but the "steam engine in britches" Stephen A. Douglas would attempt to collect the pieces of the failed bill. He concluded that combining the various provisions into one bill had united the opponents of the various measures instead of securing friends on the specific issues. He declared he would get California statehood passed as well as the bill for New Mexico. He would depend on constant off-record negotiations and, something which Clay had lacked, presidential support.

Douglas introduced the California bill on August 1, but soon realized he would have to deal with the Texas issue first. August 5, he and James Pierce (who's incompetence had pierced the heart of the Omnibus bill) presented a bill giving Texas the shape it has today. Texas received more land that it would've under the Omnibus, but it it would receive $10 million from the Federal Government in 5% stock -- which was more than enough to pay off the debt it had banked on paying with the taxes and duties it could raise as an independent republic. President Fillmore provided the stick to the bill's carrot by warning Texas that New Mexico constituted federal territory where Texas had no legitimate claims--warning the Texas militia that armed force would be deployed against any efforts to enforce Texas law in the territory.

The Texas matter pitted the Unionists against the radical southerners who were pushing for secession. One of the latter, David Yulee, declared that the right of expansion, or the Liberty of Growth was indispensable to the slaveholding south. He followed by calling for a new Constitutional Convention to renegotiate the compact of Union to give the southern states control of one legislative body. 

The Texans, realizing that there was no better deal coming for them, joined with the union senators for passage of the bill. In a few days, Douglas had achieved a significant result which had eluded Clay over several months. Three days later, he pushed the California issue.

The admission of California would make the slave states a minority. Sam Houston threw in vote for California Statehood. "If we are men, let us meet the difficulties which have come upon us like men." Several southern senators joined as well, and Douglas had scored a second victory.

The New Mexico bill soon followed and passed as well. Douglas had three victories, and left Washington on business to avoid voting on the Fugitive Slave Bill, which provided draconian powers for the recapture of escaped slaves and was aimed at destroying the underground railroad. The bill ultimately passed with an unrecorded vote.

Douglas had succeeded on all points--provided the House passed the bills as well.

The above is summarized from Chapters 24-25 of Fergus Bordewich's America's Great Debate: Henry Clay, Stephen Douglas and the Compromise that Preserved the Union.

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I've already mentioned my next story to be published, "Love under a Purple Sky," in Raconteur Press' Space Cowboys 6: Fission Chips. My copies of Cursed Canyon arrived this week as well. It's chocked full of rip-roarin' tales of rootin' tootin' cowboys and their encounters with the strange, eerie, and weird. You'll want to read my story, "Letters in the Mail," to catch up on the exploits of Rufus and Glen, along with the other accounts of the fantastic and unfamiliar.